


Combat Jack

by romanticalgirl



Category: Generation Kill
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 22:20:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Originally posted 3-2-09</p>
    </blockquote>





	Combat Jack

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 3-2-09

He doesn't think about Brad.

Nate doesn't even think of him as Brad, because if he does, he knows he'll be falling down a spiral faster than Encino Man can fuck up this war, which at the rate he's going so far, is pretty goddamn fast. So he doesn't think about Brad or of Brad and he just thinks about Hitman Two One actual and Sergeant Colbert and he does his job the best he can with what he's got, which is pretty damn good all things considered.

The problem is that war is about half 'hurry the fuck up' and half 'hurry up and wait', so Nate has a lot of time on his hands and nothing else to do with them. He doesn't always have the luxury a lot of the men do, the ability to hide away for the few minutes to jack off, squeeze and stroke his dick until at least one thing goes off right in this fucked up mess. 

He wraps his hand around the side of the truck and undoes his pants, horny and hard enough right now not to care about anything. He can hear Brad and Ray's verbal sparring, talking about music or women or weapons or gay sex or something equally absurd in the middle of the fucking desert, but all he can hear is Brad's voice, and he lets himself breathe, lets himself go enough to think of Brad.

Brad on his knees between Nate's legs, thrusting hard. Brad's hot breath on Nate's neck as he fucks Nate against the Humvee. Brad's face as he comes, Nate's legs wrapped around him as he thrusts down. Nate bites his lower lip to hold back the groan, his hand fast and tight on his dick, focusing on the head. His palm is slick and sticky and he can't get enough, jerking hard until the world goes white and the RPGs in the background fade against the sound of the blood rushing in his ears.

He jerks a few more times, his whole body racked with hard shudders until he can't stand it anymore. He tucks himself back in and rubs his hand surreptitiously against the seam of his pants before swiping it across his face and wiping Brad - hot and sweaty and fucking Nate hard - out of his mind.

He has work to do.


End file.
